Interruptions
by PotionChemist
Summary: Charlie and Hermione have been a relationship for a year, and no one knows. Christmas at the Burrow gets interesting.
1. Chapter 1

At precisely 12:53pm on Christmas Eve, Charlie Weasley stepped through the International Floo in the Ministry of Magic. He checked in with the wizard on duty and made a quick exit, hoping no one from his family would spot him. He had somewhere to be before he headed to the Burrow.

Apparating to Diagon Alley, he ducked into Ollivander's. When the old shopkeeper saw him, he said, "Charlie Weasley! Ash, twelve inches, unicorn hair if I do remember correctly?"

Charlie smiled at the man, knowing he did this with every former patron who walked into his shop. "It was, until I went to Romania and it didn't really agree with the dragons. I had to get something a bit more powerful."

Nodding his head, Ollivander said, "That makes sense. While consistent in its magic, unicorn hair isn't the most powerful of cores. What suits you now?"

"Oddly enough, it's eleven inches, Maple, with a Phoenix feather core," Charlie replied.

"A most interesting combination indeed! A wand that needs a challenge and doesn't like being rooted in one place too long! Has the Phoenix feather ever acted on its own for you in a dangerous situation?"

Charlie thought for a moment. "Once. A perfectly placed Conjunctivitis Curse to a very angry dragon."

Ollivander nodded. "So if it's serving you properly, what brings you in today?"

Clearing his throat, he said, "I'm here to see Hermione. She asked me to bring some heartstrings back from Romania for her."

Ollivander nodded and led him to the back where Hermione was hunched over a desk, carving away at a piece of wood that was much too large to be a wand at the moment. She hadn't even noticed them entering the room.

"She usually has some Muggle music contraption going and it only plays in her ears. Absolutely mad if you ask me!" the old man explained before heading back out into the shop.

Charlie was secretly glad he'd left them alone; now he could greet his witch properly. Leaning down behind her, he could hear a loud guitar riff and she was nodding her head along, her messy bun swaying to the rhythm. He planted a kiss on her cheek and she screeched, jumping out of her seat and turning her knife on him.

"Fucking hell, Charlie! Were you trying to kill me?" she shouted.

Smiling at her, he replied, "With a kiss? I know I'm good, but—"

She cast a _ Muffliato _ and said, "We're still not talking about it until after the holiday. I've already disappointed your mother once when things with Ron didn't work out, and quite frankly, I'd like to just owl our news to Ron because I don't want to be in the same room with him when he finds out."

Charlie ran his hands through his much too short hair. He'd had it cut for Christmas at the Burrow, not wanting to be lectured about how he was now over thirty and needed to grow up and settle down. Little did they all know, he was ready to do just that now that he had her.

Her. Hermione. The girl his little brother had been besotted with, had talked about constantly every time he saw him. Despite being eight years her senior, all of the qualities Ron described made her sound like his perfect woman. He knew from the beginning she was in no way suited to Ron, a man who wouldn't read a book if his life depended on it. When he finally allowed himself to really look at her after she and Ron had ended things, he knew she was exactly what he wanted.

"Fine, Hermione. We won't talk about how I want to rip that tight little jumper off of you right now and suck on—"

She shot a _ Silencio _ at him. "No. I am at work. As much as I would like that, you need to go and meet me later tonight. Find an excuse to leave the Burrow, and I will definitely welcome you back to England properly."

Even standing there magically silenced, he wanted her. She had a quick temper and was a quick draw with her wand, something that most didn't appreciate about her, thinking she was only Harry Potter's bookworm sidekick, but he saw through that image. She was full of fire, like one of his beloved dragons, truly untamable and fierce down to the core.

Gesturing to his lips, he made her smile as she lifted her spell. "Okay, Fireball. I'll sneak out and meet you tonight. Godric knows I won't be able to make it through Christmas tomorrow if we don't get some time together first. It's been what…?"

"Six weeks," she answered, and it made him happy she'd been counting the days, just like he had. "I don't think I'd be able to make it through, either."

Testing his luck, he said, "You have to admit, shagging in the middle of the Burrow would certainly let everyone know we're together."

As expected, she leveled him with her fiery glare.

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the vials containing eight perfectly harvested dragon heartstrings, each from a different breed and labeled properly. Her eyes lit up. "I never imagined you'd be able to get this many."

"Well, we did annual health checks on most of the dragons over the past couple of weeks," he explained. "They were sedated, so the technique you showed me was relatively easy to perform."

Temperamental as ever, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. "Oh, I can't wait to try them. Best Christmas present ever! Thank you so much!"

"That's not your Christmas present, Hermione. Don't be ridiculous."

She squeezed him once more before letting go. "Okay, but it would be completely fine if it was!"

Pecking her lips quickly, he stuffed his hands in his pockets in an attempt to stop himself from pulling her back to him.

"I'll see you tonight. Wear something… well, fuck, don't wear anything at all," Charlie said.

Hermione smiled at him and waved him away. "Go, see your mum so you can come tonight!"

"Oh, I plan on it," he teased, turning and walking away.

* * *

When Charlie arrived at the Burrow, his mother was exuberant as ever. In the years since Fred's death, she'd slowly returned to the pre-war Molly Weasley, bustling around her kitchen and knitting Christmas jumpers year-round. The first few years, she hadn't been able to do it, saying it didn't feel right not making one for Fred.

"I can't believe you've come home for Christmas! I'm so happy to see you!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

Mentally rolling his eyes, he said, "Mum, I've been home for Christmas for the past three years. I'm not going to miss any more holidays or birthdays or anything."

"Oh, I know," she sniffled. "It's just… I like having a nearly full house for the holidays. It makes things easier on me."

He squeezed her tighter, mentally debating giving her the news of his impending move earlier. The only person who knew about his permanent return to England was Hermione, and she was sworn to secrecy. He didn't want to tell anyone about their relationship at Christmas, especially coupled with the news that he was moving back — Hermione didn't want the familial pressure she had felt with Ron to invade their life immediately.

His mum would think he was moving back so he and Hermione could get married, and Ron was likely going to fly into a fit of jealous rage. While Hermione had made it clear she was not interested in Ron, he always seemed to be waiting for her to change her mind. It had been a major point of contention for her when they'd started this relationship — she didn't want to hurt him all over again — but Charlie had eventually persuaded her that it would all work out in the end.

When Molly ushered him into the kitchen, he sat at the scrubbed wooden table and accepted the food and drink she set in front of him, knowing that some things would never change about his parents. His mother was the consummate caretaker, and his father would always tinker with the Muggle things that found their way to the Burrow. She sat down across from him while he ate.

"So, how have things been in Romania?" she asked.

Charlie swallowed the bite of steak and kidney pie before answering. "They've been good. Actually, they've been really great. We're setting up a few new things with the Ministry of Magic to make it easier for dragons to be transported from anywhere in Britain to the sanctuary."

"And what does that involve?"

Charlie explained the plans to have special dragon relocation teams, a holding area deep in a forest in England where the dragon's health and fitness for release could be assessed, a quick-response team for dragons that mistakenly wandered into Muggle areas, and a liaison to act as a go-between with the Ministry's Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures. As he explained everything, he could see the wheels spinning in her head.

"You're involved in setting all of this up, Charlie?"

With a smirk, he said, "I am, Mum. I'm one of the few people at the dragon sanctuary with firm ties to Britain."

She hadn't breathed in almost half a minute. He knew she was dying to ask if he'd be working in the British program, but she was afraid to push him to come home like she had in years past.

"Go ahead, Mum. I can see you want to ask," Charlie said, granting her permission.

She finally exhaled. "Are you going to use this opportunity to come home for good?"

Smiling at her, he nodded. "Yes, Mum. I'm back for the majority of the time as of today. I'll only be working with dragons directly if they need to be health-checked or relocated to the sanctuary in Romania."

When she burst into tears, Charlie was glad he had told her privately. Everyone knew Molly was an emotional sort, but she didn't like to openly cry in front of a big group.

Finally, she said, "Thank Morgana! It's about time you started to settle down, Charlie! Your baby sister is married and has a baby on the way, and you aren't even dating anyone!"

He bit the inside of his cheek. "That's very true, Mum, but don't press the issue just yet. Let me settle into life here and my new job."

"Of course, Charlie. I'm just going to be glad to have you around for Sunday dinners again. And I'm sure your brothers and all the others will be happy to have another person to add to Quidditch!"

Laughing, he replied, "Mum, let's just keep it between us for right now. I'm going to tell everyone tomorrow."

"It's your news to tell. I'll be silent as a mouse," she assured him.

* * *

Despite having spent the afternoon with his Mum, she wasn't willing to let him leave that night, and he didn't have the heart to fight her on it. He borrowed the family owl, a large barn owl named Winnie, and sent Hermione a note.

_ H- Mum won't let me get away. George, Bill, and Fleur are here, and I don't think I'll be able to sneak out after the fact without raising a lot of questions. Just know that I'd much rather be at your flat with you than in the twin bed in my old bedroom. I'll be thinking about all the things I had planned to do to you tonight and taking care of myself, just like I did during summer breaks from school… Love, C _

An hour or so later, she had responded to him.

_ Charlie- That's such a shame. I had obeyed your request from earlier to a T. I guess I'll also take care of myself and then get dressed… I'll see you tomorrow. Love, H _

With a groan, he imagined Hermione laying naked in her bed, her hands slipping over her breasts and between her thighs. It was a very clear picture; he'd made her masturbate for him before so he had something to picture when he read her letters and she mentioned touching herself to the thought of him.

"I'm an idiot," he said to himself, leaning his head against the windowpane.

A throat clearing behind him made him stand up straight. "I know that face," George stated. "There's a bird waiting for you somewhere, and you can't say no to Mum."

Charlie looked around. "Maybe, but it doesn't matter. It's just a bit of fun I had planned for the night. I think Mum would likely hex my bollocks off if I left now."

With a laugh, George said, "And then how much fun would you be able to have?"

"None. Just like now because I'm being cockblocked by my own mother," Charlie groaned.

"Well, you could try to sneak out and go, but she'd probably trace your Apparition and ask the girl to marry you," he snickered.

"I've no doubt you're right," Charlie answered. "It's fine. I'll see her tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? As in she'll be coming here?" George asked, and Charlie nearly kicked himself. There was only one single female invited to the Weasley Christmas festivities.

Quickly, he corrected himself. "Tomorrow night, after I leave here. I'm going to tell Mum I'm staying with a friend."

George nodded, and they stood there in silence for a moment, Charlie's eyes roaming over the note again as he thought of the faces Hermione was likely making right now.

His brother's voice ripped him out of the fantasy. "Did you know ickle Ronnie is bringing his new girlfriend to Christmas tomorrow?"

Charlie whipped around. "Who's he been seeing?"

George bit back a grin and said, "You won't find this funny since you weren't at Hogwarts with us, but he's bringing Eloise Midgen. Ask Hermione about it tomorrow. I'm sure she can do the story justice better than I ever could."

Grinning, he thought about Hermione's potential reaction to the news Ron was dating someone. Maybe she'd feel comfortable going public tomorrow, regardless of her other concerns. Maybe he'd be able to touch her and kiss her all day, no matter who was watching them.

"Mate, you're smiling like some kind of crazy person," George pointed out. "What gives?"

Fuck, he really had to work on his poker face.

"Nothing," he began. "It's just good to see he's moving on from… everything."

George wiggled his eyebrows. "I would have a hard time moving on from a minx like Hermione, as well. From what he's said, she's an absolute—"

Charlie held his hand up. "I do not want to think about Ron shagging Hermione. That's just… not right."

"Well, she's made it quite clear it will never happen again anyway, so that ship has finally sailed for Ron. He's looking for a nice girl that Mum will approve of," George said.

To Charlie, that sounded absolutely perfect.

* * *

The next morning, Charlie woke in his childhood room and he was wishing it was Hermione's flat. He'd dreamed of her all night, felt like he could actually smell her and taste her, so waking up alone was torturous. With a groan, he headed for the shower before anyone else in the Burrow would be awake to see his morning wood.

When he got down to the kitchen, his mum was already cooking. Smiling at her, he said, "Don't you have enough cooking to do today? Why are you making such a huge breakfast?"

She smiled at him. "I won't let go of any traditions! Your brothers and sister will be here soon."

"Are Harry and Hermione coming?"

Molly slapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, I didn't owl Hermione to come early! Of course Harry will be here with Ginny."

Charlie put his hands in his pockets. "I could pop over to her flat to get her."

Fixing her gaze on him, Molly said, "And how do you know where she lives?"

Fuck. This was just as bad as George last night.

"I've been harvesting dragon heartstrings for her. I dropped them off to her at her flat once because the shop was closed," he explained quickly, grateful he had been able to think on his feet.

She turned back to the cooker and nodded. "Yes, go and see if she'll come for breakfast. I'm sure Ron would like the opportunity to tell her about Eloise before she turns up at dinner later on."

His heart almost skipped a beat as he ran out into the garden and Disapparated, completely foregoing the easier Floo journey.

* * *

When Charlie arrived at Hermione's flat, he made his way straight into the bedroom. Since she lived alone, he left the door wide open, knowing there was no one around to interrupt. She was still asleep, wearing a thin tank top and a pair of boyshort knickers. He quickly stripped off his boots and jeans before sliding into bed beside her. When he wrapped his arms around her, spooning her, she sighed and snuggled closer.

"Charlie," she murmured. "What are you doing here?"

Unable to help himself, he fondled her breast through the tank top. She hummed in sleepy pleasure. "I came to wake you up and bring you to breakfast, Fireball. Happy Christmas."

After a few more gentle squeezes, he started rolling her nipple between his fingers, and she arched into him, pressing her breast into his hand and her arse into his groin. "Happy Christmas," she responded, her voice breathy.

"I've got something for you," he teased, pressing his erection against her and pinching her nipple a bit harder.

Hermione cried out and he quickly slid his hand into her knickers, stroking over her clit.

"You're evil," she said, turning her head back towards him. "I wanted you all night long, and I kept thinking about you wanking, and I don't want to have to be apart anymore."

Charlie sucked on her pulse point. "We're not going to be apart much anymore. Unless I'm transporting a dragon back to Romania, I can be here with you every night."

She was panting and rubbing against his fingers, her body waking up and moving quickly toward orgasm. "And what would that entail?"

Grinning against her neck, he nibbled at it. "I'll get to do things like this all the time. I'll touch you and kiss you and—" He paused, moving his fingers down to press them inside of her, making her sigh in relief. She was already so wet. "—fuck you. And then I'll hold you in my arms all night, wake up in the morning, and do it all again."

Shifting her hips in time with his hand, the pace became furious. Every few strokes, he'd withdraw his fingers, trailing them up to her clit to circle it a few times before sliding back inside of her. Just as he felt her start to clench around his fingers, the fucking Floo activated. Her whole body stiffened and she started to pull away.

"Hermione? Charlie?" Bill's voice rang out. "Where are you?"

Charlie locked an arm around her waist and whispered, "He'll think we left if we don't answer. I can't imagine he'd come to your bedroom."

"Have you met your family?" she hissed, pointedly looking at the door he'd left wide open. "Let go of me!"

"Love, neither of us are dressed—" Charlie was cut off by Bill's footsteps coming down the hall.

When the eldest Weasley brother entered the room and saw Charlie spooned around Hermione, he slapped a hand over his eyes and said, "Oh, bloody hell! Seriously, Charlie?"

"Surprise!" he replied. "Happy Christmas, Bill!"

"This doesn't really look like a first time to me," Bill stated.

Hermione covered her face with her hands. "That's because it's not. Fuck. Bill, please don't tell anyone."

With a booming laugh, Bill replied, "Oh, don't you worry. I won't be telling anyone about this, especially today. I'd like to enjoy Christmas, and Ronnie will go through the roof. I'll tell Mum that Hermione is in the shower and you're waiting for her. Make it quick and get over to the Burrow, yeah?"

Charlie didn't answer him.

Once the Floo activated, Hermione's body relaxed in his arms. "I need to get ready."

Charlie held her tightly in place. "Oh, no, witch. You're not going anywhere. Bill is going to buy us just enough time that we can both relieve some of this tension before we have to spend the day together at the Burrow."

"No, Charlie, I need to get ready! I need to actually take a shower, and do something with my hair, and figure out what I'm going to wear…"

Knowing his bollocks were in for another rough day, he removed his hand from her knickers and released her. Much to his surprise, she turned over and kissed him sweetly. "This is going to be one hell of a Christmas," she said. "I'm going to end up rubbing myself against you like a cat in heat."

He laughed. "Well, maybe once things are in full swing, we can slip away at the Burrow. Or I could at least make you come now."

Hermione shook her head. "No. If you have to wait, I'm going to wait."

With that, she slipped into the bathroom to start getting ready and Charlie rose from the bed, slipping back into his trousers. He stood by the window, looking down into the busy Muggle street. There were cars everywhere, and it was so different from the quiet dragon sanctuary in Romania. Not for the first time, he wondered if he could really live here in the city. It was a war he had been waging with himself for months.

When she emerged a mere fifteen minutes later, he had his answer. His heart skipped a beat, likely because all of the blood in his body had traveled south; she was completely naked, her curls strategically placed over her breasts. Charlie groaned and looked away from her. He could hear her laughs as she rifled through her wardrobe, and he knew he could give up the wide open spaces and relative isolation if he could have her.

And he knew she was already his.

"Okay, I'm covered now," Hermione said, and he looked back over to see her in a red jumper and tight black jeans, her slim legs on display.

She looked herself over in the mirror, and he strode up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You look perfect, love."

Smiling, she turned her head and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. I'm just going to put on a bit of lipstick, I think."

Charlie nodded and waited for her to emerge from the bathroom again. Once she was ready, she gathered up gifts. "I got you a few things, but I'm just going to bring a small gift for you to the Burrow. You_ are _ going to come back here with me later, right?"

He leaned in close to her ear and said, "If you think my cock will be thwarted for a third time in two days, you're mad. Of course I'll be coming here tonight."

Again, Hermione laughed and grabbed his hand. "Okay. Kiss me one more time before we go, Charlie. And make it a good one since it'll be the last for hours."

Kissing her was always good, but this time, he made sure to pull her flush against his body, allowing one hand to travel down and grip her arse while the other wrapped around the back of her neck, holding her possessively as his lips and tongue moved against hers, trying to fulfill her demand.

When they parted, he leaned his forehead against hers and asked, "Was that what you had in mind, Hermione?"

"Better than," she breathed in reply. "I don't want to go."

"We have to."

"I know," she sighed, pulling away. Her thumb swiped over his lips, likely removing the traces of lipstick.

And with that, they grabbed her bag of presents and headed into the fireplace.


	2. Chapter 2

When Hermione stepped through the Floo, she couldn't look Bill in the eyes. She greeted the Weasleys one by one, hugging them and kissing their cheeks. Charlie greeted all of the siblings he hadn't yet seen, and she was quickly reminded of how hard this day was going to be. The Burrow was overflowing with people, and all she wanted to do was ride Charlie like her life depended on it. She closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind, but all she saw was a naked Charlie in her bed, and that certainly didn't help things.

"I can do this," she murmured to herself. "He's going to be there tonight."

"Who's going to be there tonight?" Harry asked brightly, slipping an arm around her shoulders.

Hermione mentally berated herself. "No one. Nothing to worry about, Harry. I'm just cracking up a bit today. You know what I'm like around the holidays."

He eyed her skeptically and shrugged, likely not believing her, but not wanting to press the issue either. He led her across the room to Ginny, who was sitting on the sofa with one hand resting on her pregnant belly. She was due to give birth in March, but she was feeling the strain of carrying an extra stone of weight around with her already. Hermione sat beside her, placing a hand on where either baby James or baby Lily was kicking his or her mother, and she laughed.

"I swear, I feel like this child is going to bruise me from the inside out," Ginny complained. "I don't know how Mum did this six times or how she managed with two babies in there. Especially since they were Fred and George and likely started their pranks in the womb."

Shortly after she had sat down to catch up with Ginny, Molly summoned everyone to the table for breakfast, and Hermione took her usual seat next to Ron. She hadn't greeted him yet, so he slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her an awkward side-hug. "It's good to see you, 'Mione," he began. "I… I was hoping you'd be here this morning so I could tell you something."

"Oh?"

He took a deep breath and she looked into his blue eyes, the ones she remembered staring into the first time she made love to a man. And then she started noticing how they were so different from Charlie's.

Guilt made her stomach clench for a moment, and then she realized there was something strange in Ron's eyes. They weren't looking at her like she was the answer to everything, and that was certainly new. She was intrigued.

"I've met someone," he blurted. "And she's coming to dinner tonight. I think it's pretty serious, and I wanted to be the one to tell you. I know you've thought that I was just holding a candle for you, but—"

"Ron, I'm delighted you've met someone. Do I know her?" Hermione asked, a weight lifted off her shoulders.

His ears turned pink, and she heard George chuckle. Ron's tongue appeared to be stuck, so his elder brother jovially interjected. "Ickle Ronnie has decided that Eloise Midgen's nose is no longer off-center. In fact, he quite likes it."

"Shut it, George!" he snapped. "Eloise, well, she's wonderful. She gets me."

Hermione had to stifle her own laugh, remembering Ron's comments from fourth year. "That's brilliant, Ron. I'm looking forward to seeing her again, and I'll keep this one—" She gestured to George. "—in line."

And so the day went. Hermione made her way from meal to meal, Weasley to Weasley, and tried to avoid Charlie at all costs. She'd seen him looking at her from across the room, and he'd shot her a few winks, but they hadn't touched. She was afraid that if his skin brushed hers, her arousal would reignite, and they'd end up sneaking off somewhere.

And there was literally nowhere to sneak off to at the Burrow.

Eloise arrived early in the afternoon, and Hermione greeted her warmly. She looked intimidated, but the Weasleys quickly made her feel welcome, and Ron never left her side. Hermione watched their interactions and felt nothing but happiness; Ron deserved to fall in love and move on. She certainly had, and her only regret was that it was with his brother.

With a sigh, Hermione stepped outside and cast a warming charm over herself. There was no snow yet, so she decided to take a walk around the perimeter of the house.

She felt guilty about Charlie and how their relationship would make Ron feel. She wanted nothing more than to be the happy couple they were in front of the entire Weasley clan, but she also didn't want Molly to start planning their wedding before they even tried living together. Running a hand through her hair, she wished things were just a bit different, that she could've been paired with another dragon expert in Romania, one that wouldn't cause Ron pain.

But then he wouldn't be Charlie, and Hermione loved Charlie with her whole heart.

As she walked, her mind continued to drift, thinking about the past and what had led her to this very complicated point in her life.

She knew she had a hot temper and often hexed before she thought. The war had changed her; all the losses, all the guilt, all the fear, all the expectations had weighed her down until she broke.

She had lost friends and her parents and often felt like she should've done more, could've done more to save them. If only she'd lived up to the title of brightest fucking witch, she would've been able to work out where the Horcruxes were sooner. She'd fought Harry tooth and nail on Hogwarts, and she'd been wrong, so bloody wrong — the diadem had been there all along. Just like she had been wrong about Obliviating her parents. They may still be alive, but she would never have them back. They would never remember her.

And she was afraid nearly all the time. Whenever she was startled, she'd quickly draw her wand and use a non-verbal spell to disable the potential attacker. Like yesterday at Ollivander's. She'd nearly jumped up and stabbed Charlie with her carving knife, and then she'd silenced him so quickly. Sometimes, she thought she heard Bellatrix Lestrange's mad laugh ringing through her flat, and that was obviously impossible, but it still made her break out in a cold sweat. When it happened, she'd just lay in bed and run her fingers over the tiny scar on her neck, usually crying and shaking. Luckily, no one ever saw her break down.

But the expectations had been worst of all. As soon as the war ended, everyone expected her to begin working for the Ministry immediately, the Muggle-born poster child to promote equality. As much as she wanted Muggle-borns to be taken seriously and never persecuted again, she didn't want to be the face of the movement. When she refused the Ministry, McGonagall had tried to lure her back to Hogwarts with a shiny Head Girl badge and promises of a quiet year, but Hermione hadn't ever experienced a quiet year at Hogwarts. When the dread of some fresh horror popping up during the school year combined with the horrible memories from the Battle of Hogwarts, she knew she couldn't go. She politely asked if she could sit her NEWTs at the end of summer, and she finished her formal education.

Molly and Ron added on even more expectations. They wanted her to move into the Burrow and just absorb into the Weasley family even more than she already had, and she wasn't ready for that. She was only eighteen, for Merlin's sake! And Ron had already mentioned he wanted a big family, which would mean starting the pregnancies soon, and she wasn't even sure she wanted one baby, nevermind a whole Quidditch team like his mother had. She quietly moved into Grimmauld Place, telling Molly it made the most sense since Harry had more space and they were like siblings. Ron's jealousy flared to life and he persuaded Harry to let him live at Grimmauld, too.

Somewhere along the way, the bookworm with a somewhat sneaky, vengeful streak had disappeared and left behind an anxious mess with both trust and commitment issues.

Almost a year after the war, she broke things off with Ron and fled Britain, heading to Australia to check on her parents. When she'd arrived in wizarding Sydney, she happened upon a wand shop, and she entered, sick of using the wand that had tortured her at Malfoy Manor. She ended up with a new ebony wand with a Phoenix feather core, and she considered it fitting when she researched the wood — ebony was often associated with witches or wizards who held tightly to their beliefs, regardless of the opinions of others, and was well-suited to dueling and transfiguration. She also found the Phoenix feather fitting from both her allegiance and the way she was trying to be reborn from the ashes of the war.

The proprietor was a lot like Ollivander, and she talked with him for well over an hour. When she explained her situation, he offered her lodging in the empty flat above his shop and quizzed her about wandlore. Still relatively fresh off her time researching the connection between Harry and Voldemort's wands, as well as the Elder Wand, she answered all of his questions with flying colors. He offered her a six-month-long apprenticeship, and she happily accepted.

During those six months, she learned more than she ever could've imagined about wandlore and craftsmanship. He'd shown her how to select the best wood, charm bowtruckles, and harvest dragon heartstrings. Once her six months were up, she stayed on for another six, crafting and shaping her own wands and watching as children purchased them before the start of school. It was an amazing thing to behold, especially when Muggle-borns came into the shop, likely never having seen a wand outside of the movies. Hermione loved helping those children, explaining to them that they could catch up to the students born to magical families very quickly if they applied themselves.

After staying in Australia for a year, she came back to Britain and tried to make amends with those she'd left behind. Molly had welcomed her with open arms, apologizing profusely for all of the pressure. Ron took awhile to come around, but then he started pursuing her again. She rebuffed him at every turn, going so far as to move into her childhood home to get away from his advances, and their friendship suffered.

Hermione secretly went to Ollivander and told him about her apprenticeship in Australia, and he quickly hired her on. He didn't let her start making wands, even though she'd been doing it for months. No, instead, he had her travel and harvest woods first. Hermione made her way around the globe, choosing branches from different types of trees that were of wand quality. Even though she knew this part of the process was important, it annoyed her to be sent out to do something so trivial. She did that for nearly a year before he sent her on to lure unicorns out, harvesting hair from their tails when they'd let her. Next, she spent nearly six months trying to find a phoenix. The bird had given her three of its fine feathers, and Ollivander had been overjoyed. Despite all of these adventures, she still felt a weird combination of angry and empty inside.

Finally, he took her to Romania and taught her how to harvest dragon heartstrings humanely, using a different method than she'd learned in Australia.

That was where she met Charlie again.

He took her out to dinner the first night she was in Romania, talking about his life at the sanctuary and getting to know her. Drunk on expensive firewhisky, she spilled her guts to him, admitting the fears she lived with day to day after the war, the pressure she felt to excel, and her lack of feelings for Ron.

"Hermione," he soothed, "you don't always have to be the strongest one or the smartest one. After what you went through, you're allowed to be afraid. You don't have to enter the Ministry and try to change the whole bloody world. You don't have to marry Ron, and you certainly don't have to explain yourself. You either want him or you don't."

With drunken tears slipping from her eyes, she confessed, "I don't want him. I thought I did, but I just don't. I can't trust him. What if he just up and leaves me again?"

This led to her spilling the secret that only Bill, Fleur, and Ginny knew; she told Charlie that Ron had abandoned them during the Horcrux hunt, and she saw how mad he was, his blue eyes turning darker and looking dangerous. "I can't believe my prat of a brother would just leave you like that, Hermione. No wonder you don't trust him."

She knew she'd smiled at him when he said that. No one really knew, and Harry didn't understand why she still felt she couldn't trust him because of it. Since Ron had come back, Harry believed he should be forgiven, even praised. Hermione didn't feel the same way.

That night, Charlie carried her back to the dragon sanctuary and tucked her into bed, and she asked him to stay with her. She remembered the way he hesitated, the look in his eyes that spoke volumes now that she knew he had already been attracted to her, but he'd done it anyway. He held her through the night, and when she woke up in the morning, she realized she'd slept peacefully for the first time in years.

When she went back to England, he started owling her, and they kept up a steady stream of correspondence, getting to know each other better from a distance. A few months later, Ollivander asked her to go to Romania without him for more dragon heartstrings, and she leapt at the opportunity, excited to visit Charlie again. They went to a nearby pub that had an enchanted Muggle jukebox and drank way too much firewhisky, leading them to dance the night away.

Right before closing, the music slowed and Charlie pulled her flush against him, and gently kissed her lips. "I hope you keep coming back for more heartstrings," he confessed, and in that moment, she knew she wanted to.

He was the Weasley brother she was least familiar with, and she had always wondered what he was like. Bill had been Head Boy, but Charlie had been a Prefect and Quidditch Captain. She knew he'd been a Seeker, like Harry and Malfoy, but he was built so differently. He was broad and muscular, so wonderfully strong. She felt like she could trust him to protect her, to carry her when she needed a break.

She kissed him back and said, "I will, as long as you're here."

He just held her again that night, which was good since she was definitely not in her right mind. When the morning sun woke them, he smoothed her hair back and asked, "Did you mean it?"

Her brain was fuzzy, but she knew what he meant. "I did, but we can't tell anyone I'm coming here for you until we're sure, Charlie. I don't want to upset your family unless it gets serious."

He nodded and leaned down to kiss her once more.

That was over a year ago, and now Bill had been the first to find out.

Hermione was sitting on a bench in Molly's garden, and she heard Charlie's voice. "Fireball? What are you up to out here?"

She turned to look at him and smiled. "Just thinking. It's _a lot _in there."

With a laugh, Charlie replied, "It's always a lot."

He sat down beside her, and she didn't even think about it — she tucked herself into his side, sharing her warming charm with him. His arm was around her shoulders and his fingers were playing with her hair. "Is it your parents? Or Ron?"

"No, not at all. I was just thinking about… well, about us, really," she admitted. "How all of this first started."

He tilted her face up with his free hand and kissed her softly. "In a good way, I hope? I've already quit the sanctuary."

"Of course!" she said, slapping at his chest. "How could you think it would be in a bad way?"

Charlie shrugged and kissed her again. "I'm so happy to finally be back home—"

"Don't lie. You love Romania," she interrupted, giving him a sharp look.

"I love you more, Hermione, and you're here."

Their lips met again, lingering for longer this time. "I love you, too, Charlie."

A throat cleared behind them, and they both froze. Hermione's hand quickly moved to her wand, like it always did when she was startled, and she turned her head, meeting the glares of Harry and Ginny Potter.

"Fuck."

* * *

Charlie nearly laughed. They'd managed to keep their relationship hidden for more than a year, and today, Bill, Harry, and Ginny had all discovered them together. And he'd nearly slipped up and told both his mother and George. He stood, pulling Hermione up with him.

"Harry, Ginny," she said nervously, "it's not—"

"Save it, Granger," Ginny snapped. "You said you loved him. It's exactly what it looks like!"

Hermione didn't counter Ginny's words at all. Charlie stepped in. "Gin, let me explain—"

"No! Not you. I want her to tell me how long this has been going on."

Charlie looked at Hermione, and she sighed. "A bit over a year, Gin. We didn't want to cause drama with Ron until we were sure."

"And you're sure now?" she asked.

Charlie pulled Hermione closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. He felt her relax against him, the hand that had been on her wand dropping. "We're sure, Gin. I'm back in England for good."

Ginny's eyes widened, and Harry finally spoke. "That's why you've been going to Romania instead of Ollivander."

Hermione nodded. "I mean, he doesn't much like to travel anymore, but yes. That's definitely part of it."

Harry stepped closer and said, "I swear to Merlin, Charlie, you had better take care of her. And don't get yourself killed by a fucking dragon and leave her alone."

Charlie met Hermione's best friend's eyes. "I'm settling into a new job as a sort of liaison between the sanctuary and the British Ministry. I won't be around dragons nearly as much. She means the world to me."

Harry nodded and moved back to Ginny's side, wrapping his arm around her and kissing her cheek. "Good. I know that feeling very well."

"You owe me the story of this," Ginny stated, waving her hand in their direction. "Without any bloody details since it's one of my brothers… again."

Hermione's face flushed, and Charlie glared at his baby sister. The baby of the family that was going to have a baby of her own very soon.

"Let's go in, Gin. You shouldn't be out in the cold for too long," Harry said, and Charlie was happy he was looking after his sister.

When they were alone again, Charlie turned Hermione to face him and cupped her face again. "Do you still want to wait to tell everyone? That's three people so far."

"But Ron—"

"He's happy, Hermione. Did you see how he was doting on Eloise?" Charlie asked.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, and she tilted her head up to look into his eyes. Unable to resist the red-painted lips, he kissed her, and she made no effort to pull away, regardless of where they were. When his eyes opened, he caught a glimpse of red hair in Fred and George's old bedroom window, and he figured everyone but Percy, Ron, and his parents knew now. He was about to tell Hermione, but she spoke first.

"If you'll let me talk to Ron first, I suppose—"

Charlie was so excited he picked her up and spun in a circle. Her laugh rang out, much like it did when they were alone in Romania, and it was the sweetest sound. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he held her up by her arse.

"Oh, Fireball, we're going to have to leave as soon as we tell everyone," he teased. "I'm not going to be able to resist you. I'm already imagining those red lips wrapped around my—"

She clapped a hand over his mouth. "Haven't we been caught enough today? All I need is for your mother to overhear a comment like that!"

He laughed and licked the palm that was against his lips. Hermione pulled it away and wiped it against his cheek. "Disgusting. Why in the name of Godric would you do that?"

Charlie lowered her to the ground and said, "Go get Ron so we can talk to him."

Hermione shifted from foot to foot. "I… Okay. Right. I can do this."

He worried he was pushing her, putting pressure on her like she'd been so afraid of. She squared her small shoulders and headed for the house, clearly on a mission.


	3. Chapter 3

When Hermione came back, Ron was following her, looking nervous. "Why do we have to speak privately, 'Mione?"

Gods, Charlie hated that nickname, and he knew she did, too.

"I've also been seeing someone," she began, her voice shaking a bit. "And I don't know how you're going to take it. I was going to wait until after the holiday to tell everyone, but you and Eloise are so well-suited, and I thought it would be better to get it out in the open—"

"Who is it, Hermione?" he asked.

She didn't speak, but she summoned Charlie over. When Ron saw him, he turned green. "You're with him? One of my brothers?"

She took a deep breath and nodded. "I've been traveling to Romania a lot for Ollivander and we just sort of, well, we liked each other and things progressed."

Ron just looked at the ground. "So you couldn't love me, but you love him?"

Charlie watched the hurt spread across both their faces, and he wanted to go to Hermione, to hold her, but he knew she wouldn't want him rubbing their relationship in Ron's face.

"I didn't set out to fall for one of your brothers, Ron. I think you know that," she said quietly. "Things between you and I were so damn complicated and I wasn't in a good place after the war. I'm still trying to heal now."

Ron raised his head, and there were tears visible in his eyes. "I would've waited for you if you'd asked me to, 'Mione."

"I know, but that wouldn't have been fair," she replied. "And we just — I don't think we work together, Ron. You have Eloise now, and you two seem so happy together."

"We are," he confirmed. "This is just hard for me. You get that, right? I knew you'd always be part of the family, but I never imagined you'd end up with one of my brothers. Are you going to move to Romania now?"

She shook her head and Charlie cut in. "I've moved back to England, effective immediately, to work with the Ministry on dragon relocation, rehabilitation, and release."

"I see. So this must be serious then," Ron said.

Hermione looked at him with a plea in her eyes. "It is, and I'm sorry if it hurts you, Ron."

When Charlie saw his youngest brother swallow hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing, he felt awful.

"I don't want to talk about it right now," he said. "Let's just try to enjoy the holiday, and we can sort all this out after. I'm not going to make a scene or anything. Does everyone else know already?"

Hermione sighed. "Bill, Harry, and Ginny all caught us in some way today."

"And George, I think. I saw someone in his bedroom window," Charlie added.

"So Mum, Dad, and Percy don't know?"

Hermione shook her head again. "I didn't — I don't — want to feel pressured to get married again."

"Mum won't make the same mistake twice, Hermione. She knew she sort of freaked you out with all of the marriage and babies talk."

The conversation stalled, and they all began walking towards the Burrow. Charlie watched as Ron grabbed Hermione's hand and held it for a moment. "I want you to be happy again, 'Mione. I love you. I've always loved you in one way or another, and this won't change that."

Hermione threw her arms around Ron and started crying. "Thank you, Ron. I love you, too. I was so afraid of hurting you."

Charlie watched as Ron held her close, saying goodbye in a way. He had already taken the news better than they ever could've imagined. After a few moments, they parted and Ron looked at Charlie.

"Take care of her," he said gruffly. "I'll obviously be watching."

"You don't need to worry. I'm invested in this," Charlie responded. "Harry's already threatened me, as well."

Ron nodded his approval before heading back towards the house. Charlie moved to Hermione's side, wrapping an arm around her waist. He waited for Ron to vanish inside before speaking.

"So, that wasn't too bad."

"It wasn't," she agreed. "I just hope your parents are okay with this. I mean, it's a little unconventional that I've taken up with you after being with Ron."

Charlie shrugged. "Have you ever known my family to be super traditional or conventional?"

"No," she replied, a small chuckle escaping her. "Shall we just get it over with so we can go home?"

Charlie moved in front of her quickly, swooping down to kiss her once more. "I love that idea. Strangely enough, I'm not even concerned about Christmas pudding."

"Well, that's one major difference between you and Ron," she teased.

Guiding her with a hand at the small of her back, Charlie headed for the Burrow. Before they entered, he watched Hermione take a deep breath and did the same. Everyone was assembled around the kitchen table, a pudding in the center, and Hermione froze in her tracks.

"Something you two would like to share with all of us?" George taunted, a sparkle in his eyes.

Arthur and Molly were eyeing them, and Charlie said, "Well, for starters, Hermione and I have been seeing each other for about a year."

A wave of chatter and not-so-shocked faces flowed through the room, though his mum looked genuinely flabbergasted.

"Hermione, dear? You never mentioned you had been spending time with Charlie. In fact, I can't even remember you mentioning him more than in passing when you talked about Romania," Molly said.

She averted her eyes. "We wanted to keep it a secret since it's a bit complicated."

"I'd say," Bill replied with a smirk.

"And also," Charlie began, cutting off the questions, "I'm living in England now. I'll start a new role at the Ministry in January."

Unexpectedly, Percy said, "Well, damn! You've just ruined my Christmas present for Hermione!"

She looked at him skeptically.

"Did you forget I work in the Department of Magical Transportation? I've seen how many times you and Charlie have traveled back and forth in the past year and the Portkey landing locations," Percy stated pompously. "I had my suspicions and figured you would tell everyone today!"

Charlie laughed, causing the rest of his family to join in. "So what did you get her, Perce?"

"I had her Floo converted into an international one. She can travel to the dragon sanctuary whenever she likes," he replied with a frown. "Though I'm sure it was for naught now that you're moving home."

Hermione walked over to Percy and hugged him tightly. "Thank you so much. That was so thoughtful. And also, thank you for keeping it quiet. It means a lot to me, Percy. I'll still use the connection for work."

"As will I," Charlie added. "When I transport dragons, I'll be able to return via Floo. That's so convenient. Thank you, Percy."

Hermione looked to Arthur and Molly. "Are you okay with this?"

Arthur smiled widely. "We already consider you a daughter, Hermione. It appears we now have a second chance to make it official. We're thrilled."

Charlie nearly groaned at the not-so-veiled reference to marriage, but let it go when he saw Hermione hug his father and then his mother. Molly whispered something in her ear, and she nodded.

"Well, now that our announcements have been made, we're going to head home and celebrate our first Christmas together," he said. "Please stop walking in on us today. It's bloody awkward."

"I guess your girl did come to Weasley Christmas after all," George joked.

"She did," Hermione confirmed. "And now she's leaving, so come and give her a hug."

They all made the rounds, which took well over twenty minutes given the size of his family and how much they liked to talk. When they stepped into the Floo together, their hands joined, they smiled.

Just as they were starting to disappear, Charlie heard Bill say, "I walked in on them in bed this morning."

And Hermione squeaked in embarrassment.

* * *

As soon as they stepped out of the Floo, Charlie lifted Hermione, crashed his lips against hers, and pressed her into the wall. She groaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, returning his kiss with enthusiasm. She pulled her wand from her pocket and shut her Floo down with a wave. Breaking the kiss, she put up anti-Apparition wards as well.

"I'm not taking a chance," she panted. "I've wanted to shag you for weeks, and as much as I love your family, they have no boundaries. No more interruptions today."

Charlie laughed and resumed the kiss, his hands sliding under the hem of her jumper.

"No," Hermione said, breaking away yet again. "Not here. Take me to the bedroom so we can make the most of it."

Carrying her down the hallway, he realized that he wanted to do this right, too. They were going to be together now, not long distance, but _ together _. She hadn't asked him to move in, but he was hoping she would. If she didn't, well, he'd be staying with her until he found a place of his own at the very least.

He tossed her down on the bed and her curls went everywhere, fanning out behind her head. Slowly, he removed her boots and then her jeans, leaving only a tiny scrap of red lace covering her core. He swallowed hard and ignored it for the moment. She sat up and he removed the jumper. She was wearing a matching set, the bra lightweight enough that he could see the outlines of her nipples.

"You're gorgeous," he praised before pushing her back to the bed.

As he stripped down to his boxers, he felt her eyes on him, watching every movement he made and flex of his muscles. Her lips were slightly parted and she'd clenched her thighs together. But when he took a step forward, she relaxed and opened them, inviting him to touch her and tease her.

His mouth descended on her neck, kissing and sucking along the column of her throat. Hermione's hands carded through his hair and held him close, not letting him pull away from her skin. Continuing his trek down her body, he stopped at the edge of her bra, kissing and licking, teasing the skin under the lace with his tongue. He slid a hand behind her back, fumbling with the bra's clasp while he continued to kiss her. When it sprang free, he pulled the cups above her breasts, freeing them but not removing the garment. He took a nipple into his mouth, and she moaned and writhed against him.

"Charlie," she breathed, "I want you so badly. Please."

He sucked harder and shifted to the side, his body no longer pressed between her legs. He slowly reached inside the tiny red knickers and stroked her gently, picking up where they'd left off so many hours ago. He could feel how turned on she was, how wet she was for him, and he wanted nothing more than to slide into her. But he didn't. He held back, wanting to focus all his attention on her before seeking his own release.

"You'll have me soon enough," he murmured against her skin. "I need to make sure you come first. At least once."

His fingers pressed inside of her, fucking her slowly to drive her mad. He wanted her to shake and shiver, to clench and convulse around him. When her hips started moving in time with his fingers and her hand covered the breast he hadn't touched, he knew she was well on her way to forgetting everything around her, just feeling _ him _ and what he was doing to her body.

Charlie picked up the pace, moving his fingers more quickly and adding a twist to his wrist that he knew she loved. Hermione's moans and pants were getting closer together, and he felt her inner muscles start to squeeze his fingers a bit tighter.

Moving closer to her ear, he whispered, "Come on, Hermione. Let go. I can feel it — you're right there."

Charlie sucked on her neck in the place that drove her wild and rubbed his thumb across her clit, and she cried out. A few seconds later, she fell over the edge, letting out a jumble of expletives along with his name.

He loved that, loved that her orgasms were intense enough to make her normally clear thoughts and speech turn into a nearly incomprehensible mess. He continued to rub her, both inside and out, working her down, and started kissing her softly, swallowing the small sounds that always followed her garbled words.

Breaking the kiss, Hermione said, "Okay, you've accomplished your mission, and I'm very grateful, but I need you now, Charlie. Please. It's been over a month and I need you."

Charlie started pulling at her knickers, moving them down her legs and she didn't protest. "How do you want me, Hermione?"

His fingers moved back to her slit, starting to stroke her again.

"Your choice," she said with a groan. "I just came."

Using his free hand, Charlie pushed his boxers down his legs before rolling Hermione onto her stomach. Knowing what he wanted, she closed her legs and he straddled her thighs, lining his cock up with her entrance. He pushed in slowly, making her tremble. Once he was seated inside of her, he pushed the pillows aside and grabbed each of her hands, moving them above her head and holding them in place. He started to move within her, and she cried out his name as she tried to arch off the bed and quicken the pace.

"Fireball, you know you can't control anything in this position," he murmured into her curls. "You need to ask if you want more."

Hermione didn't say anything else, instead letting Charlie move the way he wanted to. He controlled everything — the pace, the depth, her movements. He took full advantage, moving slow enough to work her up again, but fast enough that she wasn't squirming against him and fighting for control.

Her moans and sighs filled the bedroom and he was lost in her. He lowered his upper body closer to her back, pressing her down more firmly, taking away the limited range of motion she'd had before and causing her to clench around him.

When she let out a sound that was nearly a sob, Charlie slowed his movements and started to lift himself off of her. "Hermione, are you okay?"

She shifted her hips wildly, and he realized she was overwhelmed, likely overheating and close to climax while trapped beneath him.

"Charlie, faster! Please!" Hermione whined, confirming his suspicions.

He changed the angle of his hips and felt her tremble when he stroked back in. "Right there, sweetheart?"

She made the sobbing sound the next time the head of his dick slid over the same spot, and he knew. Hell, he had known before he'd even asked since he'd had her so many times over the past year. He gradually increased the pace, seeing her skin flush and start to shine with a little bit of sweat. She tried to arch up again, but he pinned her more firmly and started to fuck her harder, snapping his hips at the end of each movement.

She was gasping and he nearly pulled away, worrying she couldn't breathe properly, and then she started shaking and crying out, her release racking through her from head to toe once more. Her body, which had felt somewhat rigid before, had gone totally limp. Knowing she was sated, he pulled out and laid on his back, pulling her on top of him.

When Charlie looked into Hermione's eyes, they were still full of heat, and she quickly sank down onto his length. Rocking her hips, she leaned down to kiss him. He moved his hands to her arse, gripping it and helping her to grind against him.

"I love you," she breathed against his lips.

He kept moving, rocking with her, and he could feel his orgasm approaching. He wanted her to come with him, to fall deep into oblivion together. He used one arm to brace himself, sitting up and giving her a quick kiss. "I love you too, Fireball."

His tongue worked its way between her lips again, tasting her and stifling her whimpers. She was absolute perfection, and as they moved together, skin sliding against skin, there was nothing else in the world. It was just the two of them, riding through each wave of pleasure that crested and crashed.

Breaking away from the searing kiss, Charlie asked, "Are you going to be able to come again?"

Hermione leaned back, her head tilting back even further, and his eyes fell on her chest. They traveled from her nipples to the rigid column of her throat. Another loud moan escaped her, and he felt her fluttering around his cock. "Oh, babe, I can feel you. Give me one more. I'm so fucking close."

One of Hermione's hands went to her mouth; she sucked on her fingers, wetting them before starting to roll her nipple between them. His hungry eyes devoured the sight, and he saw her other hand snake down towards where they were joined. Unashamed of seeking her own pleasure, she began rubbing her clit in time with their movements.

Hermione screamed her release again, clamping down and gushing around him, her cunt wetter than he'd ever felt before. He moved fast, rutting into her and chasing his own climax now that she'd had her fill. She leaned forward, leaving open-mouthed sucking kisses up the side of his neck to his ear.

"Charlie," she moaned into his ear. "I can't believe you're going to be here every night."

"Every night," he confirmed, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust that made her gasp. "I'll take care of you every. Fucking. Night."

He finally came, seeing waves of colour behind his closed eyes. Reds and oranges and burning blues, like the fire that lived and breathed inside of both of them.

Laying back down, Charlie pulled Hermione with him, settling her on his chest. He loved feeling her tiny body on top of his, and she nuzzled her face into his chest. The quiet post-coital moments they shared, so tender and loving, were more important to him than the sex.

"Did you mean it?" he asked, breaking the silence.

She lifted her head to peek up at him. "What?"

"The every night thing," he clarified. "You want me to be here every night?"

Hermione slapped at his chest. "After a year of being apart, did you think I'd want it any other way?"

He shrugged, hoping she'd understand the gesture since he hadn't spoken.

"Charlie, I want you here with me every night. I want you to move in. I cleared space for you already," she explained. "But if you're not ready, that's fine. We can—"

He grabbed her arse and slid her up his body so he could reach her lips. Kissing her with as much passion as he could muster, he made her moan into his mouth.

"Don't be ridiculous, Fireball," he began, pausing to kiss her again. "Of course I want to move in. I want to have unfettered access to you. I don't want to have to Apparate or Floo over. You're why I'm moving back here, love."

"Good," she sighed, relaxing against him. "I'm kind of glad that everyone found out about us today. We're obviously terrible at keeping our hands off each other when we're in the same country."

Charlie laughed and hugged her tightly to his chest. "Well, I don't know about you, but I hope that will always be the case."

Hermione sat up, fighting his hold. She ran her hands over his toned chest and abdominals, up and down his scarred forearms. "Oh, it'll always be the case." Lifting one of his arms, she danced her fingertips along the muscles and visible veins. "Seeing you, or even touching you like this, it drives me crazy. I always want to jump you, Charlie Weasley. Have since I hit puberty."

He groaned and flipped them, settling himself between her thighs. "Well, Miss Granger," he said, running his lips along her jaw, "feel free to jump me anytime you'd like in the foreseeable future. I'll be ready for you."

She turned her face to bring their lips together, kissing him once more. He slipped his hard length back inside of her and started to move slowly, wanting to take his time and worship her.

"I said I'd give you a proper welcome back," she breathed. "Welcome home, Charlie."

And he kept moving, knowing that England wasn't his home.

She was.


End file.
